


The Story of Tonight

by nighting_gale17



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Foster Care, Hurricane, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighting_gale17/pseuds/nighting_gale17
Summary: It didn't take long for all of Alexander's hopes and dreams about America to be crushed. Again and again America let him down, tossing him from one terrible foster home to another after the hurricane destroyed his village.Now he was being placed with the famous Washington's. He knows this is his last shot to make it, and he's willing to do anything to get it. It's up to the Washington's to help Alexander learn to live, trust, and love again. Are they up for the challenge? More importantly, will Alexander be able to change his mind about America and the people that live there?





	The Story of Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy my first Hamilton fic! Excuse my French, literally. My knowledge extends to google translate, so apologies if there are some mistakes. Here's to a longer chapter 2, ey?

Alexander leaned forward in his seat and pressed his forehead against the smooth cold glass of the car window, closing his eyes in relief at the feeling of the cool against his hot skin. Quiet country music filled the silence of the car as his social worker, Kitty, drove him to his new foster home. This would be his seventh home in almost 2 years, and from the way Kitty has looked when she took his from the hospital to drive him here, he knew one way or another it would be his last.

 

A shiver ran through him and Alexander pulled the ratty thin jacket around him tighter. Ever since the fever set in, he’d been going back and forth between hot and cold. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt healthy. The last time he had been warm. Probably before his mama died and he was still on Nevis.

 

The teenager took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself not to think about it and instead letting his thoughts wander to his new foster family. The Washingtons. A powerful political family, Mr. George Washington was one of the most powerful and influential senators in the Senate. He inwardly scoffed at the idea they were taking him in out of the goodness of their heart. No doubt they just wanted to get good press from fostering the poor, orphaned Caribbean boy with no place to call home.

 

Alexander knew they were a foster family, everyone did, but he had also assumed, like everyone else once they adopted their first foster child Lafayette, they weren’t going to take in any more foster kids.

 

Guess he thought wrong.

 

“We’re here.”

 

Kitty’s curt voice cut through his thoughts and he leaned back in his seat, opening his eyes to see where they were. The first thing he noticed were the giant gates. And the giant fence that spanned so far to his left and to his right he couldn’t seem to distinguish where they came to a stop. Alexander felt his heartbeat start to increase and his breathing hitched slightly. gates and fences meant he wouldn’t be able to escape. He wouldn’t be able to leave. He’d be trapped—

 

 _Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, inhalé._ Alexander forced himself to take a deep breath through the tightness in his chest as he counted. _Cinco, quatro, tres, dos, uno, exhalo._  

 

By the time he was able to bring himself back down from the panic attack he almost found himself in, they were halfway up the driveway. Forcing himself to pay attention, he studied to house with sharp eyes. It looked to be a plantation house, a huge one. There were three stories, and there were four mighty columns along the front of the house on the porch. It was beautiful, and breathtaking, even he could admit that.

 

As they reached the front, Alexander noticed three people waiting for them, bundled up quite warmly to keep away the chill of the November air. Kitty parked the car and gripped Alexander’s arm tightly when he reached to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

 

Alexander winced slightly at her grip, which was much too tight, but forced himself to nod as she talked. “Now listen,” she said quietly, venomously. “I am sick and tired of dealing with you. This is your last chance, you screw it up, you’re on the streets. Am I understood?”

 

Alexander’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly, fear clenching at his chest. He couldn’t be thrown back on the streets again. He couldn’t. “I understand, ma’am.” he said quietly. And he did. He would do whatever he needed to to make sure he was allowed to stay here. At least until he turned 18. 

 

Then, he was gone.

 

Once Kitty got out of the car and moved to greet the Washington’s with a sickly warm smile, Alexander allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath before he got out of the car, clutching his messenger back tightly. It was all he had, and he’d be damned if anything happened to it.

 

Quietly, so not to interrupt, he walked up to Kitty and the Washington’s, standing a couple of feet away with his gaze on the ground. They were talking quietly before he heard Kitty say her goodbyes and then she was gone. Alexander didn’t even look up to watch her drive away, keeping his eyes on his feet and staying quiet until he was addressed.

 

“Come in, young man, you must be cold.” Alexander glanced up and saw the woman— it must be Mrs. Washington— smile down at him. She ushered the three of them inside, closing the door behind her and Alexander let out a pleasant sigh as he was encased in the warmth of the house.

 

“You can call me Martha,” Mrs. Washington said as she went to stand by her husband’s side, taking his hand. “And this is my husband, George, and this is Lafayette.” she gestured to the teenager on her other side, who gave him a large, crooked grin.

 

“Alexander Hamilton.” he said quietly, politely, clutching the strap of his bag tighter. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Alexander.” George rumbled.

 

Alexander glanced up at him before quickly glancing away. Yeah. Sure. It was a pleasure for a day, a week, a month, before he inevitably does something to screw it up and suddenly it's not such a pleasure to have him anymore.

 

“Alexander, sweetie, would you like a tour of the house first or do you want to see your bedroom?” Martha asked with a kind smile and gentle green eyes.

 

“A tour would be fine.” he amended, gauging her reaction and relaxing slightly when her smile widened and she gestured for him to come along with her. “Right, well right this way is the kitchen…” He got the grand tour of the house. Martha showed him everything on the first floor, from the kitchen to the formal and informal dining rooms, the lounge area, and the media room before they went up to the second floor with Lafayette and George trailing behind them.

 

She came to a stop in front of a pair of grand doors, surely at least 12 feet tall and twice that in width. Martha gestured down the hallway to her right. “Down that way is your bedroom, as well as Lafayette’s room and some guest bedrooms. And down this way,” she gestured towards the left hallway, “Is George’s and mines bedroom. And in here…” She gently pushed the two large wooden doors open with practiced ease, a large smile on her face as she turned around and faced him. “This is our library.”

 

Alexander stepped into the room and stared around in awe, his mouth hanging open slightly. The library was by far the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen, and he decided he definitely was going to do whatever it took to stay here as long as that meant he could read all of these books. The shelves were lined up in rows, and there were more shelves that lined the walls taller than he was, and he spotted a rolling ladder he had seen libraries use to get books on the really high shelves.

 

Slowly, waiting for the yell to not touch anything that never came, he walked forward and reached out to skim his fingers over the bindings of a row of books on the shelf nearest him. It was… astounding. Craning his neck up, he could now see that most of the roof was a beautiful skylight, and there was even a second floor. Farther into the library, along the far back wall, Alexander could make out a grand staircase that must lead up there. “Wow…” he breathed, his wide green eyes trying to take in every single detail at once, completely in awe. He for the first time found himself grateful with the foster family he was placed with. Even if they turned out to be completely terrible, if he had this room to retreat to and hide in, he would be able to make it through the next three years here.

 

“Oui, c'est assez magnifique n'est-ce pas? Et je pensais que la bibliothèque que j'avais en France était grande. C'est très minuscule par rapport à ça.” Lafayette’s voice floated over his shoulder and Alexander nodded, too distracted by the volumes of books on the bookshelf.

 

“Lafayette,” George sighed in exasperation, though there was a fondness to his voice that showed he wasn’t truly upset. “You must remember not everyone can speak French fluently.”

 

“Ce n'est pas un problème.” Alexander replied absently, walking closer to one of the bookshelves in interest. There was a volume of War and Peace that caught his eye— it appeared to be in French. No doubt because of Lafayette, Alexander guessed. “Je n'ai jamais vu une bibliothèque dans la maison de quelqu'un avant. C'est à couper le souffle.” 

 

“Vous pouvez parler couramment?” Lafayette squealed in excitement, the sheer volume of his voice had Alexander turning around. The older French boy had a large grin on his face and excited spark in his eyes. he looked elated. “Ce n'est pas souvent que je trouve quelqu'un qui parle si bien le français! Surtout quelqu'un si jeune, comme vous.” 

 

Alexander felt the heat rush to his cheeks and he glanced nervously at the Washington’s when George spoke up, amazement obvious in his voice. “Wow, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Alexander?”

 

Alexander coughed uncomfortably, reaching up with his hand to rub the back of his neck. “I can also speak fluent Spanish. On Nevis, we spoke a combination of all three and maman was determined I could speak all three separately as well.” He bit the inside of his cheek, remembering the way George had berated Lafayette for speaking in French. “I’m sorry, sir, I won’t do it again.” He knew some people didn’t appreciate when others started mixing languages, and he was going to be here for a long time. He wanted to stay on the Washington’s good side for as long as possible.

 

“Nonsense,” George shrugged dismissively, looking at him with kind eyes and then grinning at Lafayette, was slowly inching closer towards Alexander, visibly trembling with excitement. “Lafayette will be overjoyed someone else can understand him and it will definitely help Martha and I with our own French.”

 

Martha chuckled. “Quite right. Now, Lafayette, why don’t you show Alexander his room while we fix something up for dinner.”

 

“Of course, mère. Maintenant viens, Alexander, I will show you your room. You will love it!” Lafayette grabbed Alexander’s hand, ignoring the slight flinch he gave at the action, and started leading him down the hall while Martha and George went back downstairs. He gestured to a pair of wide blue doors on their right when they finally came to a stop halfway down the hallway. “This is my bedroom, mon amie. And this one is yours.” He pointed to the bedroom across from his, large wooden doors similar to Lafayette’s, but painted a calming forest green instead of the electric blue. Lafayette pushed open the doors and spread his arms out, spinning around dramatically. “And this is all yours.” he declared.

 

The room was gigantic, bigger than Alexander had ever seen before—bigger than a room he has shared with five other kids at one of his old foster homes. There was a king-sized four-poster bed with a lovely cream comforter spread out, and accent pillows of very tasteful shades of green. Two large windows spanned from floor to ceiling on either side of the bed. To his left there seemed to be a small sitting area, just a large, comfy looking chair and a love seat angled at a—was that a fireplace? Alexander shook his head in disbelief. There was a fireplace in his bedroom. 

 

“Over here is your closet, mon amie.” Lafayette strode towards a set of slightly smaller double doors and opened them for him. Alexander peeked inside and was shocked by the vastness of the walk-in closet. He could fit an entire bedroom in here!

 

Lafayette tsked from beside him. “It is quite empty, but fear not, that is something we shall fix. the bathroom is over there, he gestured towards the opposite wall where a single door must lead to the bedroom.

 

“Are you sure this isn’t a bit… much?” Alexander questioned, walking back to the middle of the room and staring at the bed apprehensively, clutching his messenger bag tightly.

 

“Non, Alexander! I know it may seem that way, I had the same reaction when I first moved here.” he said in understanding, placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder and smiling at him softly. “Fear not, this is all for you. I hope we are to become good friends.”

 

Alexander gave Lafayette a tight smile. Honestly, he was feeling pretty tired, and freezing. It was cold in here, just like everywhere else, he was never warm. “Thanks. And George and Martha?” he let the question trail off, not really sure what he was trying to ask.

 

“They are good people.” Lafayette said firmly and smiled at him once more. “You will like them, they are some of the most kind and understanding people I have had the privilege to meet, and I am proud to call them my parents.”

 

Alexander nodded mutely, and averted his gaze back down to the ground. He hoped Lafayette was right. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes and a sudden swell of emotion clogged his throat. He couldn’t go through another bad home, he just couldn’t. He prayed that things would be different this time around.

 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Lafayette clapped his hands together, making Alexander flinched slightly at the loud noise. “Well, I am going to leave you alone for now. Martha will call for us when dinner is ready.” he grinned at Alexander before he left. “I will see you later, mon amie.”

 

Alexander waited a few seconds before he allowed the harsh cough to escape his throat where it had been festering since he got here. His entire posture slumped and he threw himself on the bed, clutching his bag tightly to his chest and curling up under all of the covers as a bout of shivers took over him. He really hoped his fever would be gone by morning, he was tired of being sick all of the time. He was freezing, like always, but he was also sweating like he was under the Nevis sun on a hot summer day. His brain hurt and the moment his head hit the pillow, he allowed the exhaustion that had been following him around all day consume him.

 

He only hoped the Washington’s wouldn’t be too upset if he missed dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy my first Hamilton fic! Excuse my French, literally. My knowledge extends to google translate, so apologies if there are some mistakes. Here's to a longer chapter 2, ey?


End file.
